


by the still of your hand

by mormon-hair (frankie_31)



Category: Mindhunter (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Breathplay, Edging, Grindr AU, Holden Ford Has a Praise Kink, Hook-Up, Humiliation, M/M, Under-negotiated Kink, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-16 20:55:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21277595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankie_31/pseuds/mormon-hair
Summary: Whiskey. Technology. It’s a bad combo, especially when served with divorce papers.





	by the still of your hand

**Author's Note:**

> This is directly inspired by Kayla and Lucy and the Mindhunter Discord. Also 'No Plans' by Hozier. Have at thee, nasties.

Whiskey. Technology. It’s a bad combo, especially when served with divorce papers. 

Bill juts his chin out mulishly, slouching further in his armchair and his whiskey glass nearly slips from his fingers. He’s scrolling through dating apps, discarding all the bubbly, pastel ones. He doesn’t want  _ bubbly, pastel  _ dates. He wants to tear someone apart in a way he hasn’t since he was a first stringer QB in college. 

A yellow and black icon with a mask catches his eye and he opens it up. The reviews seem up his alley and he isn’t really sure what a masc top is but he likes the idea of anonymous sex. 

It takes him a moment to clue in that a lot of people on this app have dicks. Ultimately, this doesn’t end up making much difference. Bill went to college in the 80’s. There were a lot of Robert Smith-types that looks just as pretty in lipstick as the girls. He experimented. Everyone did. 

And the people on this app are filthy. He’s just barely uploaded a picture of himself (chin to sternum, blurry), when he gets a slew of messages. 

_ hotdog: Hey boy this hole is waiting for you [Attachment] _

_ flutterbi: Can u host? _

_ hotroad2012: unf look at that chest _

_ Tin Lizzie: Hi. You look like you’re my type. Am I yours? [Attachment] _

He clicks the newest, least unhinged message and is pleasantly surprised to find pale skin and soft, pink lips alongside the proper punctuation. Bill ignores the part of his brain that says  _ looks like Holden. Pretty, pink-mouthed Holden _ . The man in the little photo has smooth skin with a round, aristocratic chin and Bill finds himself imagining his thumb against their tongue. 

_ Bten: I think you are my type. You look like a good way to spend an evening.  _

_ Tin Lizzie: I like how strong your jawline is. Do your hands match? _

_ Bten: I like your mouth.  _

_ Tin Lizzie: What will you do to it? _

And the conversation dissolves from there into a myriad of dark sexual fantasies. By the end, Bill has his spent cock in hand and a photo of Tin Lizzie’s smooth, pert ass on his screen. 

_Tin Lizzie: Perhaps, tomorrow we could apply this chemistry to real life._ _8:30 pm?_

_ Bten: I’m in.  _

_ Tin Lizzie: Talk to you then. _

***

Bill finds himself whistling the next day. Briefcase swinging at his side, head in the clouds. It’s Friday, he had a great orgasm last night and the sun is shining. 

“You seem chipper,” Wendy says and Bill winks at her. The bridge of her nose pinks slightly and Bill whistles his way into his office. 

Wendy’s heels clip the floor as she moves into his doorway. She presses an elegant hand to his door jam and tilts her chin up just a little, chess moves playing behind her eyes. 

“Actually, you seem  _ beyond _ chipper, Bill,” she says and her nose is still tinged pink. He grins at her and a smile quirks the corner of her mouth. “What have you been up to? Or should I say who?”

“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell,” Bill deadpans to her and she lowers her chin in concession. She steps all the way into his office and looks at him carefully. 

“Well, I hope you can keep it together long enough to go over these new files,” she says, teasing in her odd deadpan, and he nods to her. 

“Nothing to worry about,” Bill assures her and she ‘hmms’ at him. “Let’s get into it.”

Holden marches in a few moments later, greeting them the same way he does every day, and begins unpacking his briefcase. Bill watches the curve of his back as he unloads his case. Eventually, Bill drags his eyes back to Wendy. She’s watching him and he stifles a sheepish grin. 

“Conference room in twenty?” She asks the room at large and Holden nods to her. Bill clears his throat, standing and moving passed her. He squeezes her forearm and goes to get them coffee. 

The day creeps by and Bill is ansty by lunch time. He and Holden get lunch most days and today is no exception. 

They eat on the plaza today and Bill lights his cigarette once they’ve claimed a table. He’s got a meatball sub and another coffee cup and Holden’s got a full balanced meal on his tray. 

Bill takes a long drag, watching Holden bite in his apple with white teeth. Juice glosses his lower lip and Bill lets himself watch Holden’s tongue slide over it. 

“Do you have weekend plans?” Holden asks, meeting Bill’s eyes and Bill nods. 

“Yeah,” he says and Holden wipes a thumb over his own mouth. “You?”

“I do,” Holden says and he ducks his chin a little. He almost smiles around his next apple bite. “Spending time with a friend.”

“A friend or a girlfriend?” Bill asks, taking another drag, and Holden swallows. 

“Not a girlfriend,” Holden says and Bill loses a little interest. 

They make comfortable small talk, a familiar pattern, and it carries them through lunch and into the afternoon. 

Bill cleans when he gets home, changes his sheets and gives the bathroom a wipe down with Lysol wipes. He’s a fairly tidy man so it’s light work and he still has hours until Tin Lizzie is due over. 

He eats a small dinner and showers. Doesn’t look at the crows’ feet at the corners of his eyes or the lines around his mouth. He isn’t sure why Tin Lizzie is into him, but he is not looking the gift horse in the mouth. 

The closer to 8:30 it gets, the more nervous Bill becomes. He begins to question the process. He’s hooked up at parties in college, sure, but it had been fingering Julie Meyers on the stairs or pushing Deacon Gilbert into the upstairs bathroom and down onto his knees. 

This is a new beast and he’s suddenly unsure how to proceed. Does he kiss Tin Lizzie immediately? Does he shake his hand? Do they exchange real names? His spiral of doubt is interrupted by his apartment buzzer. 

“Hello?” Bill calls into the intercom and there’s a little clearing of a voice.

“Hello, it’s me,” Holden’s voice says and Bill curses. 

“What’s going on, Holden? I’m a little busy,” Bill replies.

“Bill? Oh. It’s me,” Holden says and Bill fights the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

“I know it’s you, Holden,” Bill says and sighs. “What can I do for you?”

“You—Well. Do you want me to come up?”

That’s a weird way to phrase it, but it must be important if Holden’s come to his home. Bill buzzes Holden up and leaves the front door cracked. 

He sits in his armchair again, jostling his foot on the floor. Holden creeps in a moment later, closing the door behind him. 

“Hi,” Holden says again. He’s dressed in his suit from earlier, not a hair out of place. “I should have known it was you.”

“What?” Bill asks and then he Gets It. “You’re Tin Lizzie.”

“Yes,” Holden says and fiddles with his tie, a clear sign of his nerves. Bill exhales carefully and takes in the familiar crest of Holden’s upper lip and his silky skin. 

“I’m sorry, Holden,” Bill says. “If I’d known it was you, I wouldn’t have—“

“Wouldn’t have what?” Holden asks and he folds his hands into his pockets. “Promised me you were going to finger-fuck me until I cried?”

“Jesus, Holden,” Bill spits and Holden squares his jaw. 

“I don’t see why we can’t keep our plans as they were,” Holden says.

Bill really should have seen this coming. The rebellious streak in Holden has been dormant for too long. He’s due for an outburst. 

“I can think of a handful of reasons,” Bill says and Holden sucks in a little breath. 

“I see you watching me,” he says in a rush. “I always assumed nothing would come of it so I didn’t worry about it. But—You want me. Want this. So do I.”

“Holden,” Bill starts and all of his nasty messages from the night before filter into his mind. Flashes of fingers in Holden’s mouth and his ass and Holden’s long legs pushed apart. He tries again. “We work together.”

“I’m professional,” Holden says and he sighs like Bill is being incredibly boring. “You’re mostly professional.”

“Mostly?” Bill asks despite himself, frustration coloring his voice and he can practically see Holden perk up. “I’m more professional than you. You purposefully dinged Gregg’s paint job last week.”

“He parks too close to the line,” Holden replies and quirks his mouth a little. “That’s beside the point. Bill, last night proves exactly how compatible we are. We are both adults. Why can’t we indulge?”

“Adults don’t indulge in their coworkers,” Bill answers and Holden stays very pointedly where he is. Bill thinks about the place on Holden’s ass where it curves into his thigh. He thinks about biting there so Holden feels his teeth every time he sits. “It’s weird.”

“It’s weird,” Holden parrots. “Us fucking?”

“Fucking?” Bill snaps and Holden flushes despite his bravado. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Why?” Holden asks, meeting Bill’s eyes. His entire neck is pink. “Because you like ‘good boys’?”

“Holden,” Bill groans, dick taking interest in Holden’s callback to their late-night conversation. “Go home.”

“I have a proposal,” Holden says, voice thready. It makes Bill happy that Holden has embarrassed himself. 

“And what’s that?” Bill asks, anticipation and arousal mixing in his lower belly. 

“We kiss,” Holden says. He’s tomato red. “And if it’s weird, as you so clinically put it, we stop. If it’s not weird—Well. We go from there.”

“A kiss?”

“A kiss. With tongue. At least fifteen seconds.”

“Fine,” Bill says and stays seated. 

There’s a beat full of energy and then Holden jerks into motion to cross the room. Bill’s knees part, Holden carefully puts a knee on the seat between them, and leans down. Holden’s eyes are half-lidded, heavy and doe-like and his mouth is parted just enough that Bill can feel his nervous breath on his face. 

“Well?” Holden asks and Bill smiles and leans back. 

“Well?” Bill echoes and Holden’s mouth falls open just a little more. His pupils flare and Bill reaches to slide fingertips up Holden’s side. Holden huffs a surprised breath and then leans in. 

Their mouths connect and they both freeze. It doesn’t start as amazing or earth-shattering but then Holden hunches a little and Bill tilts and their mouths slide in the right way. Holden melts, feline, against Bill and Bill opens his mouth. 

Holden’s mouth parts further and Bill licks up into it, tongue sliding over Holden’s teeth and against his tongue. Holden lets out a little moan when Bill slicks their tongues together and reaches up with both hands to grab Holden’s trim waist. 

They kiss a moment longer and then Bill shoves him back by his hips. 

Holden’s breathing hard, mouth open and lips shiny, and Bill steels his face. 

Holden stands upright. His dick is hard and at eye level for Bill. Bill reaches out and plants his hand beside the bulge, rubs his thumb firmly over the line of Holden’s cock. 

“You liked that,” Bill says and Holden swallows hard. 

“Yes,” he says and Bill edges forward in his seat. 

“You want to stay,” he says and Holden’s cock twitches under Bill’s thumb. “Say you want to stay.”

“I want to stay,” Holden recites obediently, staring down at Bill without blinking. He has his hands pressed to his sides like a mannequin. “Please.”

“Good manners,” Bill murmurs and Holden swallows again and nods jerkily. 

“Yes,” he says and Bill sits back in his chair. 

Holden slumps when Bill’s hand leaves him and he exhales heavily. 

“Lose the suit,” Bill tosses into the room, testing the waters. 

Holden shrugs his jacket off and looks around for somewhere to put it. 

“On the ground,” Bill says and Holden only hesitates a moment before he drops it. “Good boy.”

Holden lets out a little moan, hips jerking once, and then he strips his tie off and flings it to the side. His button-up and undershirt comes next and then he’s balancing on one foot and tearing his shiny shoe off with the other. Bill palms his dick, watches the lines of Holden’s neck as he bends over his own foot. 

Then he’s kicking off his pants and standing there in navy blue boxer-briefs and matching socks. 

He’s hard in his underwear, breathing harder, and Bill looks him over. He lights a cigarette and inhaled slowly while he takes it all in. He’s seen Holden shirtless before. But he’s never allowed himself time to look. Holden’s tightly muscled, thick in the trunk and leaner on the extremities. The body of a man who is practically strong, not aesthetically. 

“Turn around,” Bill says and Holden does. His back is tense and Bill admires the curve of his spine. His shoulder blades cut sweeping wings across his back and flow into his arms. He’s beautifully crafted, smooth and pale and freckles all over. Bill wants to cover his milky skin in welts. “Bend over. Grab your calves.”

Holden obeys, bending neatly at the waist and then his hands brace on his calves. Bill sits on the edge of his chair and reaches out. Holden flinches when Bill’s fingers trace the clean lines of his hamstrings. He trails his fingers up until they’re at the edge of Holden’s boxer-briefs. 

“I have watched you,” Bill confesses and he turns his hand to slip his fingers under the hem and runs the flat of his palm over the place where Holden’s thigh turns into his ass. “Watched you march around Quantico. Thought about turning you over my knee when you mouth off. Would you let me?”

“Anything,” Holden says with a whisper. “Please.”

“You sound like a good boy,” Bill says and pulls his hand. He turns it palm-up and runs his middle finger over Holden’s tight balls. He moves his finger in a slow purposeful line, back and forth. “But you’re turned on. Good boys don’t usually get turned on thinking about being spanked.”

“I’m sorry,” Holden says and his thighs are trembling. “I don’t mean to.”

“Holden,” Bill says lowly and Holden shivers. “Do your legs hurt?”

“Yes,” Holden says and Bill keeps his steady back and forth on Holden’s balls. “I’m not very flexible. My hamstrings. They hurt.” 

“That’s right,” Bill says and Holden lets out a noise barely louder than an exhale. “You’re being punished. If you aren’t good, then you’re bad.”

“No,” Holden says and Bill pulls his hand back and snaps it over Holden’s ass. “Ah!”

“Try again.”

“I’m bad,” Holden says, playing at miserable. 

“Do you want to be good?”

“Yeah,” Holden says and Bill sits back again. He can see Holden’s face between his legs. His eyes are closed and his face is pink. 

“Stand up straight,” Bill says and Holden does. He’s panting now, shoulders moving, and Bill decides if he’s going to do this, he’s doing it right. “Holden, turn around.”

Holden turns, red from forehead to sternum, and Bill reaches out for him. Holden steps forward with a jumbling motion and Bill pulls him down to sit on his thigh. 

“Are you certain you want to do this?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Holden says immediately and Bill holds his gaze. Holden’s eyes are dark, pupils huge and eyes glossy. “Yes. Emphatically.”

“Then get on the ground,” Bill says clearly and Holden sinks to his knees with a pleased sigh. Bill is still wearing his oxford’s and he pushes the sole between Holden’s legs, against his hard cock. Bill takes a drag off his cigarette. Holden rocks forward and seems to catch himself. He reaches back and grabs his ankles, arching his back and pushing his groin forward. Bill presses a little more firmly against him and Holden bites his lip. “Go ahead. Rub on my shoe.”

Holden flushes anew but then his hips begin to work. He’s still arched back, braced on his hands, but his hips hitch up and down. Bill exhales through his nose and reaches over to ash his cigarette in the glass tray. Holden stops his undulating for a moment but, at a raised eyebrow, he starts again.

Bill inhales, holding the smoke in his lungs, and he looks down at Holden. Holden is watching him, breathing like he’s running, and writhing under Bill’s shoe. 

“You look like a complete slut,” Bill says. Holden’s hips stutter and he pants harder, mouth falling open. “You’re shameless. Just an absolute slut.”

“Bill,” Holden gasps and Bill moves his foot away. 

Holden humps the air twice more, stomach crunching, before he stills. Bill reaches out and taps the end of his cigarette. The ash drifts down to his belly, sticking to Holden’s sweat. It’s cooled on the way down but Holden’s stomach muscles jump when it lands. 

“You don’t care if you’re an ashtray,” Bill tells Holden and he nods eagerly. “You’re already dirty.”

“You could use my mouth,” Holden offers and Bill’s dick jumps. Holden sticks his pink tongue out and holds it there. 

Bill drags his forefinger and thumb over Holden’s tongue, collecting spit, and then pinches out the ember of his cigarette. He sets it on the side table and leans forward so his arms are braced on his knees. 

Holden’s tongue is still out and he sucks up spit beginning to form at the edges of his lips. 

“Don’t pretend you care about drool,” Bill says derisively and stands. Holden’s eyes are almost closed and he looks impossibly happy. 

Bill goes and gets himself a glass of water and organizes his thoughts. He’s getting himself into something here, but there isn’t a chance in hell that he’s stopping. He gets a night with Holden. Then they go back to normal and he forgets about all of it. 

He finishes his glass of water and leaves his tie on the counter. He unbuttons the top of his shirt. Folds up his sleeves. Walks back over to where Holden is kneeling on the carpet. 

He’s got drool trickling out the corners of his mouth and down to his chest, tongue held out carefully still. Bill presses a hand on his dick and stops in front of Holden. Holden’s eyes flick up to him and Bill reaches down to touch his hair, runs his fingers through the top where it’s longest. 

“Put your tongue away,” Bill says and Holden complies, working his jaw back and forth after.

His hair is held into place with a non-sticky product and it’s soft to the touch. Bill grips a hunk and pulls up, guiding Holden to his feet roughly before he lets go.

He still looks pleased as punch. Bill gives him an appraising look and reaches over to rub two fingers over a nipples. Holden shivers. “You look good like this. Messy.”

“Are you going to make me more messy?” Holden asks and Bill nods. 

“Bedroom’s down the hall,” Bill says and Holden takes it for the order it is. He pauses near the bed and turns back to Bill. “Take your fucking socks off, Holden.”

Holden complies mechanically, dropping them on the floor beside him. Bill presses against him then, curls an arm behind his back and wipes his chin with his shirt sleeve. Then, Bill takes his jaw and presses a kiss to him. Holden melts against Bill, sinking into his arms and opening up to his mouth. 

Bill deepens the kiss and walks Holden back. He eases him down on the bed and braces above him on his elbows. Holden’s impossibly sweet beneath him, pressing up against his mouth and holding him with careful hands. Bill’s ended up between his legs and he drags their erections together. 

Bill’s thought about kissing Holden for years. He takes his time. He licks carefully into Holden’s mouth, draws breathy moans out of him until Holden’s a heated mess beneath him. Bites little nibbles into his full lips. Tastes everything there is to taste. Holden is rolling his hips up against Bill’s and Bill is grinding down against him. 

“Wait,” Holden moans, dropping his head down against the bed. “I’m going to cum.”

“So?” Bill asks and bites the long column of his neck. Holden curls up around him and Bill soothes the bite with tongue. “You think that’s going to stop anything?”

“Fuck,” Holden snaps and then he’s stiffening against Bill. “Oh, fuck.”

He exhales noisily, clinging to Bill like a limpet. Bill lets him ride it, let’s him grind on him, then pulls back. 

Holden’s staring up at him with glazed, empty eyes and Bill follows the urge to slap him. He cracks the back of his hand across Holden’s cheek and is rewarded with a choked off noise. 

Holden turns his head back to face Bill, mouth agape and chest heaving. Bill can’t help the satisfied smile that curls meanly in the corner of his mouth. 

“We aren’t done,” Bill says silkily and Holden shivers under him. 

“I hope not,” Holden says, voice gritty and deep. He’s smiling though, like a cat with cream. Bill cocks his head a little, wondering how far he can push it. “Well? What else do you have planned?”

“I’m going to help you,” Bill says placidly. “You really need to understand when to shut the fuck up.”

“Are you going to tea—“

Holden’s words are cut off by another sharp slap. Both cheeks are red now, bright against his pale skin, and Bill presses a thumb into the hollow of Holden’s throat. Holden’s dick jumps in his underwear. 

“This is where you shut your mouth,” Bill says and Holden swallows under his thumb. The smile has faded to an open-mouthed whine and Bill lets up on the pressure a little. “I’m going to get up. You’re going to turn over.”

Then, Bill does. And Holden does. And Bill tears his boxer-briefs down his thighs so they’re gathered by his knees. Holden’s ass is milky white, pale and round and taut and Bill gives into another urge. He plants his hands on the backs of Holden’s muscular thighs and leans in. 

He bites Holden, right on the roundest part of his asscheek, and Holden makes another sharp noise. 

“Bill,” he gasps and Bill trails his tongue down to the salty crease where thigh meets ass. Holden’s panting beneath him, just barely squirming on his belly and Bill squeezes his legs. Bill’s tongue moves to fuck into the tiny space between Holden’s thighs and ass—the little diamond-shaped tunnel—and he can feel the velvet skin of Holden’s balls against the tip of his tongue. 

He bites again, just for the hell of it, and Holden spreads his legs. Bill enjoys the muscles bunching under his hands. 

“You really want to be a good boy,” he says finally. He kneels between Holden’s legs on the bed and works his underwear down the rest of the way. Holden nods, craning his head to look back at Bill. “Tell me what you are.”

“I’m a bad one,” Holden says, eager. He tilts his hips wantonly, spreading his cheeks and showing the shadow of his hole. “I am. I want your dick in my mouth—in my ass—anywhere you want it, Bill.”

“There’s no shame,” Bill comments and Holden meets his eye over his shoulder. Bill can see the red corner of his lips. “Maybe we should start with teaching you shame.”

“I’m not sure that’s a possibility,” Holden says and Bill laughs a little. Holden really is without humility.

Bill pulls Holden up by his hips and watches his cock bob between his legs. It’s red, leaking, impossibly hard. Bill slaps Holden’s ass, right on the bite mark, and Holden groans and rocks forward. 

“Please,” he sighs and Bill spanks him again. Holden stretches his hands out before him, his back a series of fluid lines, and grabs the edge of the mattress. He’s presenting so nicely, ass pushed up and back arched. Bill rewards him with a few strokes to his cock. “I want it harder.”

Bill takes this as a cue to go softer. He draws his fingertips from the backs of Holden’s sweaty knees to the dip of his spine. He’s just barely stroking Holden’s skin, just tickling him, and Holden rocks back and forth searching for some friction. 

“Be still,” Bill says, voice casual, and Holden huffs. “On your back.”

Holden turns, face red and impatient. He lays back, arms up over his head, and Bill returns to his gentle stroking. His nails trace Holden’s clenched abs and the peaks of his hips. They draw through Holden’s pubic hair and around the base of his cock until Holden’s hips are hitching in little jerks. 

He drags his nails over Holden’s ribs and across his nipples, down and over armpits and shoulders. Holden’s still humping the air, twitching and carrying on. 

“Tell me what you are,” Bill says, touching Holden even more lightly. 

“I’m a bad boy,” Holden choruses. “I’m bad I’mbad I’m bad—“

Only once he’s frenzied, twisting under Bill’s hands and moaning, only then does Bill lean down and suck the head of his cock into his mouth. 

Holden shouts, coming in two sucks and Bill takes all the cum into his mouth. He holds it there, in his mouth and sits back. Holden leans up on his elbows, cock twitching against his lower stomach and a smug smile curving his lips, and Bill spits the cum in his face. 

“Jesus,” Holden yelps and Bill grabs Holden’s still-stiff cock. Holden cries out again and Bill works it slowly, meanly. Holden’s got gobs of his own cum in his eyelashes, over the bridge of his nose, on his full lower lip. 

“Say it,” Bill says, hand moving at a glacial speed. Holden twists his legs together, shrinking to escape Bill’s careful motions. “Say it.”

“Bill, I don’t—Please!”

“Say it,” Bill repeats calmly and Holden curls forward. Over Bill’s hand and his own softening cock. 

“I’m a bad boy,” Holden chokes out. He fists his hands in the blanket. “I’m a bad boy.”

“You look like it,” Bill says and lets go of Holden’s cock to smear the cum across his face. Holden shudders, ruddy face turned away from Bill. Bill wipes his hand down Holden’s chest purposefully and Holden flinches. “Are you still proud? You’re a mess.”

“I-I don’t know what I’m meant to say,” Holden says in a soft voice. He’s sweaty, red-faced with his eyes craned awkwardly down. “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth,” Bill suggests mildly. He grasps Holden’s chin in one hand and turns his face. Holden resists, eyes still kept demurely downward and Bill squeezes his face. Holden’s lips purse out like a kewpie doll and Bill gets a twist of nasty arousal from the cum smeared over his Cupid’s bow lips. “Tell me the truth. Are you still shameless?”

“Not right now,” Holden says, the delicate fringe of his lashes shading his eyes. 

Bill laughs and Holden’s gaze bobs up to meet his. Bill smiles down at him. 

“Didn’t take much,” Bill comments and Holden’s brows knit together. He looks like a wet dream come to life. His careful side-part is mussed, the edges curling with sweat, and his darkened eyes are looking up at Bill with Holden’s familiar razor focus. His pretty mouth, just barely parted. 

“I didn’t expect—“

“You’re used to running the show,” Bill says, speaking over Holden. Holden’s mouth pouts closed. “And I don’t think you’ve ever really felt like a good boy. You say it, sure. Prance around in your underwear and wiggle your ass, but there’s no substance to accompany it. You don’t really know what it feels like. You want to be a good boy—You spend the night here. You want to play at it—You know where the door is.”

Holden jerks his chin out of Bill’s hand and pushes passed him off the bed. He’s rigid, shoulders in a harsh jut and Bill turns to watch him go. Bill strips to his undershirt and boxers, takes a seat on the bed and exhales. 

He’s playing a gamble that he isn’t sure will pay off. 

But then, sure enough, Holden reappears in the doorway. He’s wiped his face clean, but he’s still nude. 

“Nobody has ever treated me like that,” he says softly and Bill raises an eyebrow. “You’re right. But you didn’t seem—when we were talking on the app. You seem like you want me to be a bad boy.”

“I think there isn’t anything more alluring than someone serving absolutely and getting off on it,” Bill says after a beat. Holden swallows and licks his lips. Bill stands. “I think when you’re a used up mess and you’re still saying thank you—That’s something special.”

“I want that,” Holden says. He steps into the bedroom. Steps closer to Bill. “I want to find that place. I want you to put me there.”

Bill closes the gap, reaches up and takes hold of Holden’s neck. The skin pinks up immediately beneath Bill’s fingers and he squeezes until Holden hiccups a breath. It’s labored, but he’s still getting air and Bill presses him up against the wall with his body. 

Holden’s falsely submissive now, hips pressed to Bill’s, chin up and eyelids fluttering. He’s still playing, coquettish and simpering, and Bill pulls him away from the wall and slams him back into it hard enough to jar the facade. 

“What are you doing?” Holden gasps and Bill squeezes until Holden’s chin is tilted up again in an authentic stretch for air. “B—Bill.”

“What would you let me do to you?” Bill asks, voice calm and deep and Holden bucks beneath him. “How much is air worth to you?”

“Please,” Holden chokes and Bill slams him into the wall again. Holden finally reaches up to scrabble at Bill’s fingers, but he’s helpless now. “Do--anything.”

“You already said anything,” Bill reminds him and Holden’s hands flap weakly against Bill’s wrists. “You said anything, but you were lying. Are you lying now?”

“No,” Holden sighs, just barely audible and he presses his hands back against the wall. “M’not.”

Bill let’s go and Holden doubles over at the waist, coughing. Bill runs fingers through his hair, the sweat curling it now gone cold, and grips a handful. He yanks Holden in for a messy, sloppy kiss. Fucks his tongue into Holden’s mouth, pulls Holden to the bed and pushes him down on it face first. Holden sprawls inelegantly on the bed, still catching his breath and Bill takes on the sight. 

There are red handprints on Holden’s ass, a bite mark, faint scratches all over his flushed body. He looks like a piece of meat, tenderized. Bill wants to take him apart further. 

The click of a lube cap has Holden tensing and Bill liberally coats his fore- and middle finger with lube. He pushes one of Holden’s legs up and presses a finger inside Holden’s ass. 

He’s not cruel, he presses slowly and evenly. Holden makes a choked off noise when Bill first breaches him, back bowing and head toppling back—then, once Bill’s knuckle deep, he bends the other way. He curls forward over his bent arms and Bill admires the knobs of his spine. 

“I made you a promise,” Bill says and works his finger in and out. “Do you remember what it was?”

“No,” Holden murmurs and Bill speeds up his motion. 

“You will,” Bill says, certain. 

He presses his middle finger in, watching the muscles on Holden’s back jump. Holden is panting and Bill pushes his other leg up. Holden’s arched over his own sprawled knees, chest flat on the bed and belly bent down. Holden’s cock is stirring into hardness again and it swings between his thighs. Bill’s fingers press into Holden where he’s open and vulnerable and it doesn’t take long for Bill to find the lump of Holden’s prostate. 

When Bill rubs the pads of his fingers over it, Holden cringes into a full body flex. He’s just breathing harshly, not saying any words, and Bill doubles down on his ministrations. Holden’s cock swells magnificently. 

“I could get another finger in here,” Bill murmurs and Holden does moan then. “Hell, the real question is— What couldn’t I get in here?”

“Bill,” Holden gasps and he jerks away from Bill’s steady, nimble fingers. Bill follows him, grinding and rubbing that firm, smooth spot until Holden is whining into his own hands and rocking back on Bill’s fingers.

“Holden,” Bill chastises. Holden shivers at his tone and Bill holds him in place, grips the fold of his hip and thigh. It bares Holden further and Bill is brutal as he fucks his fingers in, rubbing relentlessly over Holden’s prostate. “Are you going to cum again?”

“I’m not certain,” Holden gasps wildly. “I can’t—I  _ haven’t _ —“

“You’re so greedy,” Bill says in a soft voice. “I haven’t even cum once and you’re going to cum again.”

“I’m sorry,” Holden keens, curling to one side to look at Bill. His eyes are nearly crossed and Bill grinds his fingers in such a way that Holden’s mouth pops open. He slurs his next words. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t seem sorry,” Bill comments and Holden whimpers. Bill drops his voice into a gravely, deep pitch and works his fingers faster. “Come on, you greedy thing. I know what you want. You’re going to cum again and I know you’re going to love it. This is why you came here.”

Holden’s beyond words, clenching and unclenching his body in a frantic galloping motion. He’s chaotic and lovely and Bill bites another ring into his ass cheek. 

Holden is mindlessly surging back against Bill’s fingers and making these sweet, bitten-off moans. Like he can’t get a full one out before the next one starts. Bill nearly feels guilty for how he’s wrecked Holden. 

Nearly. 

It’s only when Holden lets out the first sob that Bill slows his brutal pace. Holden’s red around his fingers and Bill leans in to kiss him where he’s wet from lube. His fingers stroke in and out fully, a steady and gentle rhythm from fingertip to knuckle. He licks around his fingers, kisses the skin around Holden’s hole. 

Holden’s shaking, from tears and exhaustion now, and Bill grinds his cock against the bed as Holden chokes on another noisy cry. Holden’s crying plainly, hiccuping into his hands and Bill keeps up this new torture. He’s just barely nudging Holden’s prostate and his mouth is light on Holden’s flushed skin. 

“Just wanna cum,” Holden says in a stuffy, broken voice. He’s muffled against his own fingers and Bill smiles to himself. 

“Hmm?” Bill asks, and he brushes his knuckles on his free against Holden’s rigid cock. “What was that?”

“I wanna cum, Bill,” Holden says a little louder. His thighs are shuddering from exertion. 

“Do you deserve to cum?” 

“No,” Holden groans, curling back down over his arms. His dick is an angry red and Bill nudges the frenulum with two knuckles. “How can I earn it?”

“That’s the right question,” Bill says and he pulls his fingers free. He flips Holden, easily turning him and then takes in the sight. 

Holden is debauched, thoroughly. He’s crying, eyes clotted with big tears, and his mouth is red from his own teeth. There’s a red ring around his throat that Bill expects to purple up and his chest is a peachy, blotchy pink. His poor cock is resting against the hollow of his hip, crimson and rock-hard. Bill sinks two fingers back in him and Holden arches with a soft noise, pressing his ribs up in a lovely way.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Bill says and Holden’s thighs fall open further. He wiggles on the sheet and Bill pulls his fingers free to pull Holden down to the end of the bed. He takes a moment to take off his undershirt, shuck his boxers, force a pillow under Holden’s hips and press more lube into him, then slick up his own cock. 

Holden’s breathing evenly now, his crying has subsided. He’s got one arm thrown over his eyes and the other is tangled in the sheets above his head. He’s gorgeous. 

Bill presses the head of his cock to where Holden is warm and waiting, then he moves it up and around. Teases Holden until he’s tense, drawn like a bow before Bill. When Holden starts to settle again, Bill begins the steady press inside. 

It’s heavenly.

Holden is heavenly. 

Cherubic with his flushed cheeks and doe’s eyelashes. His pink mouth, always moving. Bill finds a deep satisfaction in taking his headstrong, mouthy partner and reducing him to a shivering hole. 

Then, Bill is fully enclosed in Holden. Tip to hilt. Holden feels so good inside that Bill almost doesn’t want to pull out. But he does and the drag of his cock is sweet that his vision blanks for a moment. Holden responds beneath him, moans Bill’s name. Bill takes it as an invitation to fuck him in earnest. 

His thrusts punch delicious noises out of Holden until he’s leaking a shiny pool of precum against his hip. Bill watches Holden arch so prettily, chin up and hands fisted in the blanket. He’s making little  _ ah-ah-ah _ sounds that go directly to Bill’s dick. 

Bill allows himself a few more thrusts and then he pulls completely out. He hikes Holden’s leg up and rubs the head of his cock against Holden’s wet hole until he rocks down against it. 

“You want me to keep fucking you?” Bill asks, petting Holden’s thigh. Holden moves down so the head of Bill’s cock pops into his hole and they exhale in unison. Holden props himself up on his elbows and meets Bill’s gaze. 

“It doesn’t matter to me,” Holden says, brows furrowed and expression wanting. The face he makes when he wants Bill to praise him after an interview. The face he looks at across a hundred conference tables.

“Lay back,” Bill says and Holden does with a sigh. Bill crosses around the bed so he’s looking down at Holden. Holden’s staring up at him, eyes wide and sweet. “Open up, Holden.”

And, God bless him, he does. Tongue out like he’s at the dentist, Holden tilts his chin up and Bill slides his cock into his mouth. 

Holden’s mouth is clumsy, the angle strange, and Bill enjoys the feeling of an untrained tongue. 

“That’s perfect, Holden. Your mouth is perfect,” Bill croons, rocking against Holden’s slick tongue. Holden moans around him and Bill strokes his cheek. “God, you just take it. You’re not even thinking.”

He reaches down to smooth a hand from Holden’s clavicles up to cover his Adam’s apple. He can feel Holden’s jaw working as he laps and sucks over Bill’s cock. 

“This is what a good slut does—a good boy,” Bill continues. Holden makes a soft noise and arches to fit more of Bill in his mouth. “You’re being so good. So dirty. You like it?”

Holden makes an affirmative noise around Bill and Bill hooks his other thumb against the roof of Holden’s mouth. It pulls Holden into an even more uncomfortable arch and allows Bill to rub the head of his cock against the silky back of Holden’s tongue. 

Holden gags once, his throat moving under Bill’s hand, and Bill soothes the column of his neck with gentle strokes. Bill starts carefully fucking shallowly into Holden’s mouth, just deep enough that Holden tenses under his hands. Bill grips Holden’s throat in both hands, holds him in place while he moves. 

It’s a heated, primal motion that culminates in ropes of cum stringing over the white cords of Holden’s throat and his pink nipples. Holden coughs once, then almost grabs his cock before flattening his hands against his sides. 

“You’ve been so good,” Bill says softly, running his fingers through the cum that’s gathered in the hollow of Holden’s throat. Holden shivers, knees drawing together, and he’s still just gazing up at Bill. “So good. Do you want to cum?”

“Yes, please,” Holden says immediately. 

“You deserve it,” Bill murmurs and rubs a thumb over Holden’s puffy lips. “You’ve been so good.”

Bill rubs the cum he’s gathered with his fingers over Holden’s lips. He groans when Holden’s tongue deftly wraps around his fingers, seeking out to fluid. Bill brushes Holden’s hair from his forehead with his clean hand and leans down to kiss Holden. The upside down angle is a bit awkward but Bill can’t deny the urge to feel Holden’s mouth against his own. 

Bill isn’t so foolish to think he’s truly tamed Holden. There is more steel in his partner’s spine than any skyscraper in town. But he does think he’s thrown him off his groove and that concept is intoxicating. Turning, but still pressing open-mouthed kisses to his mouth, Bill crawls onto the bed and lays on his side next to Holden. 

He pets a hand down Holden’s throat and trails his fingers down the valley of his sternum. Goosebumps follow Bill’s fingers and Holden gasps sweetly into Bill’s mouth. Bill runs his fingers down to circle Holden’s navel, the edges of his hips and the soft flesh of his belly. 

“Come up here,” Bill murmurs, laying back and guiding Holden to straddle his torso. Holden’s thick, muscled legs are feverishly warm against Bill’s waist and Holden gives a full-body shiver once he’s fully seated atop Bill. Bill braces his feet against the bed and Holden seems to instinctively lean back to press his lower back against Bill’s raises knees. 

It’s a feast for the eyes. Holden is languid, a silken splay against the background of Bill’s room. The red lacing Holden’s neck sends a hot dart of arousal down Bill’s spine and he pulls Holden’s hips forward enough that he can press a finger back into Holden. Miles of pale, milky skin dusted with freckles. Back arched, rosy nipples startling against his luminous skin. His neck, corded and flushed. His hands, spread over his own hips in a pornographic embrace. Not to mention his face. 

Lost in sensation, the buttoned-up Holden is replaced by one in rapture. Even as his hips roll so Bill’s fingers sink just that much deeper in him, Holden is angelic. His soft, bitten lips are parted to reveal a spit-shiny tongue. The familiar crease of his brows. Eyes half-lidded and dark. The high color to his cheeks.

Bill’s mouth runs dry.

“Touch yourself,” Bill says, voice far softer than he meant it to be. He’s uncomfortable in his blatant admiration but then Holden lets out a reedy whine and wraps his hand around his hard cock and it falls away. Bill presses another finger in alongside his first one and grips what he can of Holden’s hip. His fingers bite into the ample flesh of Holden’s ass and he urges Holden to move against his fingers. 

“Bill,” Holden says, voice breaking and he’s staring down into Bill’s face. 

Meeting Holden’s eyes--hearing the slick sounds of his fingers in Holden--the rolling hums of his moans--is tortuous to Bill. But he can’t look away and Holden writhes into overdrive. The steady roll of his hips on Bill and up into his own fist nearly drives Bill into hardness again. 

Then, all at once, the energy drops from a high, frenetic mindless one to something deeper and hotter. Holden plants a hand on Bill’s shoulder, slumps forward and then his breath is warm on Bill’s face. Bill moves his hand from Holden’s hip to his ass, pulls him open more and fits a third finger into him. Holden is spread wide. Bill’s fingers make a filthy, wet noise inside him. It’s enough to drive Holden’s fist faster over his cock, his knuckles skimming over Bill’s chest in his haste. 

“You’re close,” Bill says, taking in the visage of Holden’s blatant arousal. His forearm burns but he pushes on, driving his fingers deep into Holden’s ass. Holden tips his head forward, presses his brow to Bill’s, and lets out a rattling moan. “Come on, Holden. You can cum. You’ve been so good.”

“I’m good?” Holden stutters, brain clouded with lust, and Bill can’t help but kiss his panting mouth. “I can cum?”

“All over me, Holden. You earned it,” Bill says and Holden sighs like he’s going to cry again before wet heat splatters onto Bill’s chest. 

Holden works himself through it, hand a blur between them. Bill kisses his chin, his neck. He bites into Holden’s neck--up high by his jaw where a collar won’t hide it. Holden shivers into another moan and another rope of cum lands on Bill’s chest. 

Holden goes boneless then. He slides off Bill into a sweaty crumple against his side and lays his head on Bill’s shoulder. Bill uses a corner of the bedsheet to haphazardly wipe off his chest, then he reaches up to snag a cigarette and lighter from the bedside table, lights it, takes a drag, and then folds his arm up around Holden’s shoulders. 

“You did good,” Bill says and presses a mindless kiss to Holden’s damp curls. “Good boy.”

Holden hums happily and nudges just a little closer. Bill’s fingers trickle over the bow of his shoulder and they lay in deeply pleased quiet for a long moment. 

Holden’s silent aside from his even breathing and, when Bill looks down, Holden’s eyes are open. Staring unfocused at the middle distance. Bill gives his shoulder a squeeze and Holden blinks back to awareness, gazing up at Bill with a tenderness unprecedented. 

“You doing okay?” Bill asks and Holden nods wordlessly then closes his eyes with a deep sigh. 

“I need a shower,” Holden says and Bill feels a burn of pride at how wrecked he sounds. 

“We can shower,” Bill says and he’s finishing his cigarette before Holden stirs again. He sits up, carefully pulling his arm free and stubs his cigarette out. 

When he looks down, Holden is still spread over his bed. He smiles, despite himself, and Holden grins with an unpracticed ease. 

“Up and at ‘em, hot rod,” Bill says and he reaches down to grasp Holden’s hands. This feels more intimate than anything else they’ve done and the sensation of domesticity continues into the bathroom. 

They shower in turns but Bill can’t fight the urge to press a kiss to the knob of Holden’s spine. Holden melts back against him. The kiss turns into a series of them and they wrap around to Holden’s throat. Eventually, the kisses trail up the Holden’s mouth and the neck in the shower until the water runs cold. 

Holden dries off with a towel the way he does everything, with purpose. Bill finds himself charmed by the rigorous regimen of drying from Holden’s hair to his toes. But, as much as he wants to pull Holden back to bed, it’s time to end the night. 

They dress in comfortable silence, Holden back in his suit and Bill into his pajamas. 

Holden’s hair is a lost cause and Bill allows himself a tug on one curl. Holden smiles at him in question, eyes creasing, and Bill rolls his eyes wordlessly. He shows Holden to the door with a quiet comment and then he’s pushing it closed with a heavy hand. 

“Wait,” Holden says suddenly, turning back to press a hand against the door. “We need to—to complete to night.”

“Sure,” Bill says, smiling indulgently. “What do you suggest?”

“We started this with a kiss,” Holden says, looking entirely too earnest with his wet curls and big cow eyes. “We should end with one.” 

“End with a kiss,” Bill parrots and Holden screws up his face into a familiar stubborn expression. 

Bill huffs a laugh and then reels Holden in by his tie. Holden comes easily, startled pleasure apparent on his face, and Bill pulls him close. He doesn’t have to lean down much. Holden’s already pressing up to meet him and Bill pours all of his leftover heat into this kiss. His tongue slides against Holden’s, slow and dirty, and he allows himself to reach down and grab Holden’s ass firmly. Holden gives it just as good, scratching his nails through Bill’s hair and shoving him against the door jam. 

The kiss leaves them both panting and Bill allows himself another gift. He presses a final, soft one that he’s been holding back all night down onto Holden’s mouth. Holden returns it, just as carefully and when they part Bill hides his blush with a scratch to his nose. 

They step apart and Holden straightens his jacket, eyes downcast. 

“I had a good time,” Holden says and his eyes dart up to meet Bills. “Did…”

“I had a good time,” Bill assures him and Holden nods to himself. 

“I should go,” Holden says. 

“I’ll see you on Monday,” Bill says. 

Then, Holden leaves and Bill closes his door. And pours himself some whiskey. And sits in his armchair, brushing his fingertips over his lips. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as always to my dear Jamie for beta reading and cheerleading. And to Raine and Annie for my A2M questions. You're my rocks <3 Follow me on tumblr at mormon-hair and come join our discord! Thanks for reading xx


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